Two Worlds, One Family
by letmefallasleep
Summary: Yeah, cheesy title. But anyways. After their ma died, Connor and Murph were separated and put into different foster homes. Connor was placed in a great home, with a great family. Murph... Well, not so much. Warning: child abuse. Rating changed to 'M'
1. Chapter 1

A/N: My first Boondock Saints Fic. I have to say, this is without a doubt my favorite movie of all time. There will probably be graphic abuse in later chapters, so be forewarned. Please review and thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!:D

* * *

To be honest, my brother doesn't know me that well.

I know, what a horrible thing to say, huh? But it's the sad fuckin' truth of the matter. My own brother -my twin- doesn't know me from Adam.

Oh, he knows that I prefer Jack Daniels to Jim Bean. He knows I hate fuckin' Oprah. He knows I perfer chicken to burger, burger to pork, and pork to sausage.

But these are the kinds of things you pick up when you live with someone. Hell, you could figure it out about any room mate -someone you'd never fuckin' met before- in about a month flat.

See, my brother and I were separated after our ma died, which was shortly after our da dissappeared. Social Services swooped in to 'rescue' us, and separated us.

We were nine years old. I wouldn't see Connor again until I was seventeen.

It doesn't seem like that long, lookin' back at it. But as a kid, eight years seemed like a fuckin' eternity. Especially when I spent those eight years living in hell.

We got an apartment together shortly after we turned eighteen. It was tough the first few months. Connor wasn't exactly a neat freak, but compared to me, he was obsessive about it. I would leave pizza boxes lying out for weeks. Not because I was lazy; because I just didn't see them. He never could understand how I could walk over somethin' and not notice it. I drank constantly; that first year or so, I was never entirely sober. I'd drink just enough to get me into that happy fog like state, before headin' to work. Then I'd come home, and get completely fuckin' wasted. Connor drank, but nothing like I did.

All in all, I was surprised he put up with me.

It was our third month living together before I found out why he was bein' so patient with me.

"Murph! Murph, man, wake up! Fuck!"

Murphy McManus shot straight up, knocking heads with his twin, before kicking out violently, pushing them both off the bed.

"The fuck are ya doin'?" Murph demanded angrily, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face as he glared at his brother over the bed.

"Tryin' ta fuckin' wake ya, ya dumb fuck! Ya been yellin' loud enough to raise the fuckin' dead!" Connor yelled back, holding one hand to his forehead.

Connor watched as the fight instantly left his brother's eyes, as Murph's face closed off.

"Oh. Sorry. Just a, uh, a bad dream, ya know?" He said with a shrug, sitting back on the bed.

"Ya know, might help a bit if ya didn't sleep in every piece of fuckin' clothin' ya have," Connor said, trying to get a smile out of Murph. He was shocked when his twin chucked a pillow at his head.

"Fuck off!"

Connor stared, hurt and confused as he tried to figure out what he'd done wrong. "Murph, I just wanna 'elp. I didn't mean anythin', ya know that."

"I don't need your bloody 'elp. An' I don't need you're fuckin' pity, either," Murphy spat angrily.

Connor's eyes flashed. "Apparently, ya do be needin' my 'elp. Ya been gettin' these 'bad dreams' that make ya scream like a banshee ever since we first moved in. An' we ain't sleepin' or leavin' the goddamned apartment til ya tell me what they're about."

Murphy stood up angrily. "Ye really want ta know, do ya, Connor? Connor, with the sainted middle class family in the suburbs? Connor, whose lovin' foster parents he goes to see twice a fuckin' month? Jesus fuckin' Christ! While ya were off havin' fuckin' family fuckin' picnics, I was gettin' the fuck beat outta me or worse every fuckin' day. Every fuckin' day for eight fuckin' years, Connor!"

Connor drew back, face full of shock and surprise. "What the fuck are ya talkin' about?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Ok, so here's chapter two. Still pretty short, but I'm getting the feeling that this is just going to be a short chapter story. And since it works, I'm not gonna change it. But anyways, thanks for reading, and hope you enjoy! :D

* * *

"Jus'... Ya know what, jus' fuckin' forget it," Murph snapped, sitting down on his bed as he put his boots on, and laced them up.

"Murph-"

"I said forget it! Jesus Christ, can't ya take a fuckin' hint?" He yelled, before storming out the door.

He angrily lit a cigarette as he started his old Chevy Impala, and peeled out of the parking lot, taking out a few trash cans as he did.

He didn't even realize where he was going at first. He was just driving, to get away from it all, to get away from everything. And then he seen her standing there, in her usual spot in front of the liquor store. She strutted up to his car, a knowing smirk on her face.

"Hey, pretty boy. See anything you like?"

Murph snorted. "Jus' get in the fuckin' car, Katie."

Katie Balcom rolled her eyes and laughed as she jumped in the car. "Geez, someone's a little pissy. I can help with that, you know," She said, her voice low and sultry as her hand slid up and down his thigh.

Murph swatted her hand away harshly. "Yeah, trust me, Katie, I fuckin' know."

Katie sighed and sat back as she put her feet up on the dash. "So what _do_ you want, Murph? "

"I don't fuckin' know, alright?"

She smiled sadly, reaching over and setting her hand on his cheek. "Trouble with your brother?" She asked softly.

Murph shook his head as he pulled over, and put the car in park. "No. Trouble with me," He whispered.

She reached over and held him tightly as he quietly cried.

"Murph... You have to move on. It's not your fault, baby."

Murph gave a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, aye. 'Cause you've clearly moved on very well. 'Ow _is_ the corner treatin' ya, Katie?"

She laughed. "It pays the bills, and I don't have to work in a slaughter house with dead animals to do it," She teased.

Murph smiled. "Aye, but you still be workin' with meat."

"I thought things were going good with your brother... Carl, right?"

"Connor. An'... they were. Then I had a nightmare," He mumbled.

"Oh, Murph. What happened?"

He sighed. "I don't know, Kate. I tried to tell him, but I jus'... I got so angry. I mean... He had fuckin' everythin'. I mean, fuck, they went on family fuckin' field trips... And I... well, we... me an' you I mean... we were livin' in fuckin' hell, jus' tryin' to make it another God-forsaken day.

"An' I know he's jus' tryin' to help, but I can't help thinkin'... why me? Why not him? What made him so goddamn special?"

Katie shook her head sadly. "I don't know, Murph. But I do know this: you're a good man, Murphy McManus. And none of that... that shit we went through was your fault. There was nothing you could have done, you understand?"

Murph continued talking, almost as if he hadn't heard her. "These nightmares... and I can't stop thinkin', what could I 'ave done different. An' they jus' keep replayin', over and over and over, and I can't fuckin' stop 'em. An' every time they change a little bit, so every time it's jus' a little bit more my fault. I don't know, I should 'ave been able to do somethin'... anythin', I guess. Fuck, I'm eighteen, and I still sleep with a fuckin' light on. Still can't wear a fuckin' belt, or use the goddamn stove. I mean, fuck, 'ow dysfunctional can a guy get before he jus' dies?" He slammed his hands off the steering wheel as hard as he could. "Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with me, Katie? 'Ow the fuck do I fix me?"

Katie looked at him with tears in her eyes. "You can't, Murph. You just have to learn to deal with the shit the way you are. And yeah, I may be working the corner, but Murph... You've got way bigger problems than I do right now. You've gotta get a hold of yourself, and just... accept it, I guess. Otherwise this shit is gonna eat you up, and you're gonna end up dangling from a rope, or jumping from a bridge. What happened, happened. Nothing you or I can do or say is gonna change that. But short of dangling from the rope or jumping off the bridge, you're only other option is to just keep moving. Don't stop, don't slow down... and don't fucking think."

* * *

A/N: Just a little aside, this is NOT an OC story. There will obviously be other people in the story, but they will not be the main story, there will be no romantic involvement... they won't be in the story anymore than absolutely necessary to move the plot along. Another little aside, Katie's advice is not supposed to be good advice. She's another teenager, stuck in the same boat he is. They're not psychologists, so their advice wouldn't be psychologically accepted.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, I really appreciate it, you guys make my day. Here's chapter three. Still nothing graphic yet, but there will be graphic physical abuse, and implied sexual abuse in the next chapter, so be forewarned. I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but I'm trying to update them all, and it's taking a little more effort than I thought lol. But anyways... Thanks for reading and enjoy! :D

* * *

Connor had paced around the apartment for the better part of four hours, waiting for his brother to come back. He'd finally sat down, fingering the cross he'd worn as long as he could remember, struggling to stay awake as he watched the hands on the clock slowly tick by… Three o'clock. Four o'clock. Finally, shortly after four thirty, Murph stumbled in, reeking of alcohol and sex, leaning heavily on a short brunette gir.

"Who the fuck are you?" Connor demanded, standing and staring at the girl.

"His foster-sister. Now, if you don't mind, he's kinda heavy," She said sarcastically, giving Connor a pointed look. "And since you look like you've got a good foot and maybe sixty pounds on me, I think you'd be a better candidate for this."

"Oh, uh, right," Connor stuttered, swinging Murph's arm over his, and half-carrying him over to bed.

"Come on, baby, let's get your boots off," Katie said gently, as she began untying his boots as soon as Connor set him down.

"Aye, Katie… What would I do without ya?" Murph slurred, waving an arm around in the air. "Ya better be fuckin' nice to her, Connor. She's more family than you are."

"Oh, fuckin' thanks," Connor muttered, ripping the other boot off, and tossing it across the room. "I love ya too, ya stupid drunk bastard."

He seen the girl roll her eyes as she pulled the blanket up over Murph, and patted his check gently. "Get some sleep, you lug head. I'll see you around." She headed towards the door, before turning back to Connor. "It was nice to finally meet you, I guess. I wish it'd been under different circumstances," She said with a laugh, "But glad to meet you, all the same."

"Aye. Um… If ya want, we got some beer in the fridge, if ya wanted to stay a while," Connor said quickly, nearly stumbling over his words in his haste. "Or maybe jus' a quick smoke? We can go up to the roof if ya want."

The girl hesitated, before nodding. "Alright. Just a smoke though, no beer. I don't drink."

Connor scoffed as they headed out the door. "Ya can't be Murph's friend then," He said, locking the door behind him. "In case ya 'aven't noticed, he drinks like a fuckin' fish."

"I'm not his 'friend', I'm his sister. And yeah, I've noticed. Oh, I'm Katie by the way. In case you couldn't understand Murph's slurring."

"Nice to meet ya, Katie. I'm Connor, Murph's twin. Are you where he goes every time he disappears?" He asked bluntly, lighting a cigarette, before offering her one.

She shook her head, accepting the cigarette as she spoke. "Nah. This is only the sixth time I've seen him since he moved out. I never know where he's gonna be, and he only comes by my corner once in a while, so… It's been a while since I've seen him."

Connor's eyes nearly flew off his head. "Your... corner? As in…"

Katie smiled. "Yeah, I'm a whore. It's ok, you can say it. Murph does enough, I'm used to it by now."

"Jesus. Ya can't be much older than Murph or me. Christ," He swore, flicking his ashes onto the ground below.

"I'll be eighteen next month. I ran away after Murph moved out. Tried finding him, but apparently he was living in a box down near the old bus depot."

"So ya ended up workin' the corner 'cause ya went after Murph?"

"Nah. I started working the corner a long time ago. I just started living not far from there after that."

"Christ almighty. Was what ya left really that bad that ya thought whorin' yourself out, livin' in fuckin' boxes, and eatin' outta garbage cans was really that much better?" Connor asked angrily, lighting another smoke.

Katie flicked her cigarette, staring Connor in the eyes. "Yeah, buddy boy. You better fucking believe it."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update, had a very stressful week, yada yada yada... But I'm still sorry lol. Thank you to everyone who read, added me to their respective lists, or reviewed (I REALLY love reviews :D) I changed my mind, so the warnings have changed. Please read down a line to know what warnings there are. Thanks for reading!

_Warnings: Non-graphic sexual and physical abuse of minors_

* * *

_"Christ almighty. Was what ya left really that bad that ya thought whorin' yourself out, livin' in fuckin' boxes, and eatin' outta garbage cans was really that much better?" Connor asked angrily, lighting another smoke._

_Katie flicked her cigarette, staring Connor in the eyes. "Yeah, buddy boy. You better fucking believe it was."_

Connor almost backed away at the cold, black look in the girl's eyes. "Jesus Christ. Ya know, I don't know 'ow to deal with any o' this shit," He said tiredly, running a hand through his hair. "I knew somethin' was fuckin' wrong, but I figured it'd sorta… right itself, ya know? An' every time I try to talk to 'im, he gets pissed and fuckin' leaves."

Katie shrugged as she ground her cigarette out with the heel of her stiletto. "Don't know what to tell ya. Really can't help you there. But you better figure something out quick before he does something stupid."

Connor glared at her. "I thought you were his fuckin' sister. Why ain't it your problem too? Or you jus' come around when everythin's fuckin' great?" He spat.

He was shocked when all five foot of the girl backed him into the wall, blue eyes flashing dangerously.

"Listen up, buddy boy. I'll give you a lot of leway 'cause you are his fucking brother. But don't fucking push me, alright? I've tried helping him more than you can even begin to fucking comprehend, but I can't hold myself together, and get him straight too. Don't think I haven't fucking tried."

With that, she spun around, and headed for the door back into the building. Connor took a deep breath, wondering how badly he'd fucked up, when she turned towards him again.

"Oh, and as far as me just being there when things are going great? Where the hell were you when he was fucking starving to death in a cold basement? Where were you when he got the living fuck beat out of him with a fucking boat oar? When he needed to be patched, bandaged, and sewed back together? When our foster father would corner him alone, and rape him for hours?

" 'Cause I was right there with him, Connor. Half the time he would beg for our foster dad to beat him, to rape him, just so he'd leave me alone.

"You have any idea what that's fucking like, Connor? Hearing someone beg to be in undescribable fucking misery, to keep you from it? To know how much it's killing them inside, how much it embarasses them when somebody forces them to beg for that, just to keep you safe?

"That's where me and your fucking twin were, Connor. Where the fuck were you?"

And with that, the girl was gone, leaving Connor staring dumbly at the spot she'd stood just a few seconds before.

A few seconds ago, where Connor thought his brother's drinking was Murph's biggest problem.

A few minutes ago, when he thought his brother's nightmares came from the night their mother had died in a fire.

A few months ago, when he'd thought things were going to all be perfect, because it was him and Murph again.

Just a few short minutes ago… before he learned things he never wanted to know.

* * *

_Three years earlier_

Murph groaned at the pain that lanced through his entire body as he attempted to sit up, only to be pushed back down again.

"Stay still, you dumb fucking lug head," Katie swore, the concern in her voice belying her words. "I spent an hour sewing, bandaging, wrapping, and over all putting you back together, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't fucking ruin it all in the first ten seconds your awake."

Murph gave her a half smile as he lay down, squeezing her hand as best he could. "I'm fine, Katie. But I 'ppreciate the concern."

The petite brunette snorted as she tried to casually wipe the tears out of her eyes. "Fine, my ass, moron. While I appreciate that you were trying to help –"

"Katie, don't," Murph said, his voice low.

"I fucking will, Murphy McManus. Jesus, getting yourself killed for me isn't gonna help me any in the long run, will it? I mean, fuck, did you really have to egg him on like that? I could have taken it, Murph," She finished quietly, voice losing it's anger, and quickly giving way to despair. "Christ, Murph, what if… What if he kills you, huh? What am I supposed to do then? I may not be as big as you, or as strong as you, but… Fuck, I can take my own shit once in a while."

Murphy gave her a casual, fake smile. "Aye, but the look on his face when I told him he couldn't find a real girlfriend because of his tiny prick? Ya have to admit, fuckin' priceless."

"Quit trying to make a fucking joke out of it, Murph! I thought he was gonna kill you! He told me he was gonna kill you, and make me watch him do it. Jesus, you think I could live with that? Knowing it was my fucking fault you died?"

"Katie… it wouldn't be your fault. Ain't none of this shit your fault, least of all this. I fuckin' asked for it, alright? So just leave it be," He mumbled, turning on his side, and grimacing in pain as he did.

"But that's the fucking point, Murph! You seem to think you asking for it makes me feel less guilty, but it doesn't. It makes me feel fucking worse!"

"Katie, I'm fucking done talking about it. So either talk to yourself, talk to the wall, or shut the fuck up."


	5. Chapter 5

Connor stayed on the roof most of the night. What was he supposed to do?

He couldn't face his brother -his twin- knowing what he knew, and keep everything down. What was he supposed to say? 'Sorry ya were raped and beaten by some perv, here's hopin' ya get better'? Aye, he was sure that'd go over just fucking swell. Fuck. He was only eighteen. What the bloody hell was he supposed to do? It's not like anything he had growing up taught him how to deal with shit like that. Not like he took a 'Dealing With Rape 101' course in high school. Not like his foster parents had sat down and explained it all to him.

And, to be perfectly honest, he didn't want to deal with it. He didn't wanna know. As children, Murph had always been the stronger of the two boys, keeping Connor safe, and out of trouble... He constantly took the blame for things they both had done, constantly got into fights with anyone who so much as glanced at Connor wrong. Murph was always the strong one, the brave one... Connor didn't want to know that his hero had fallen.

* * *

Fourteen year old Murphy cringed as he wiped the blood from his nose and lip with the back of his hand. From the feel of it, his nose was definitely busted, and his lip was most likely split.

He'd been in shitty foster homes before; every kid going through the system knew there were always bad homes, and that eventually, they'd be unfortunate enough to end up in one. It wasn't a matter of 'if', but rather' when.

But this one was definitely the worst, and that was saying something.

He tried unsucessfully to get comfortable in the small laundry room that served as his room. Barely eight by three, it was more of a hallway, really, with a door at the end.

The beating had been bad enough; not the worst he'd ever had, but still pretty bad. But then the guy... Murph shuttered. He'd actually fondled him, the fucking pervert. Granted, he'd backed off as soon as Murph started struggling, but the fact that he tried scared the shit of Murph.

He jumped up, groaning in pain as he did, when the door opened again.

"You ready to be a good boy now?" Came Donny's voice. Murph backed away in fear, getting as far away from the door as possible.

"Fuck you, ya bastard," He cusssed, his back pressed against the far wall. Even though he was scared, he wasn't about to let this asshole know it. He'd realized in his first year in the foster system that showing your fear only made it worse.

Donny just smiled at him as he came closer. Quicker than Murphy's eyes could follow, he had one hand wrapped around his neck, picking him up off the floor, and pinning him to the wall. His other hand grabbed hold of Murph's crotch, and began squeezing.

"Let me go, ya fuckin' pervert," Murph rasped, trying to pry the fingers from his neck as he struggled to breath. But it was no use.

An hour later, he lay on the ground, his whole body on fire as Donny pulled his pants back up, and left the room without a word.

Naked, and in pain, Murph began to cry for the first time since his mother had died.

* * *

Connor was just letting himself into the apartment when Murph started screaming in his sleep again. Sighing as he locked the door, Connor sat down next to the bed, and grabbed Murph's hand.

"Hey, hey, hey... It's ok, Murph. It's alright. I'm 'ere now. I ain't gonna let anythin' happen," He whispered. "Jus' relax, it's alright. Ain't nothin' gonna hurt ya anymore."

Murph seemed to relax, and fall back into a deep sleep. Connor sighed again, and laid his head down on the bed next to his twin.

He was roughly elbowed awake a short while later -far too short, he thought to himself -and he groaned, stretching his back as he stood up, glaring at his twin.

"The hell's your problem?" He demanded, rubbing a kink in his neck.

Murph gave him an evil smile. "Aye, it sucks, don't it? Now, aside from the fact that that was about as queer as it could possibly be -you sleepin' on the same bed an' all that? Very weird, Connor -you were moanin' in your sleep. An' not the good kinda moanin'," He added with a grin.

Murph almost smiled back, before remembering that the previous night wasn't a dream. His nightmare had been about last night, but unfortunetly, every word of the conversation he'd had with Katie was a nightmare of the real variety.

He quickly stood up, and made his way to the part of the efficiency apartment that served as the kitchen, mentally berating himself.

For one thing, he couldn't bring himself to look at his brother. The guilt, horror, and overwhelming desire to butcher the man who'd dared to hurt his brother washed over him every time he did.

For another, when Murph had smiled at him, Connor had realized for the first time how absolutely, grotesquely fake that smile was. Had he really went three months without noticing? Was he really that stupid?

Murph stared after his brother curiously. Was he finally pissed about all the drinking and partying? Or that Murph had stormed out of their 'heart-to-heart' last night?

"Uh... Connor... Uh... somethin' wrong?" He asked nervously, getting out of bed slowly, and heading towards the kitchen. Connor had never been angry with him; oh sure, he'd been pissed at him before, but never angry with him.

He nearly fell over on his ass when his twin spun around angrily, slamming his coffee mug on the counter so hard it shattered. "Jesus Christ, Murph, were ya ever goin' to fuckin' tell me?" He demanded.

Murph felt like his heart stopped for a moment, as he asked, "Tell ya what?"

Connor snorted. "I 'ad a very fuckin' pleasant conversation with your friend Katie last night," He said bitterly. "Were ya ever goin' to tell me? Ya ever think maybe I care enough to try an' help ya?"

Murph stiffened. "What'd she say?"

"The fuck do ya think she said?"

"Connor, what the _fuck _did she say?" Murph asked, backing away towards the door.

"Enough, Murph. She said enough. Christ, did ya ever think ta call me? I wouldda 'elped ya, Murph. Ya know that, right? Murph? Murph!" Connor yelled after him, as he flew out the door.

_I can't believe she told him._

_It wasn't her place to tell him..._

_Why the hell would she tell him?_

_Jesus, what do I do now?_

_I can't go back._

_He wouldn't want me back anyways..._

_He knows how sick I am..._

_How fucked up I am..._

He thought his heart would nearly break as he peeled out of the parking lot, tears streaming down his face so thick he couldn't see the road.

_Connor..._


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Ok, so here's the next chapter. And yeah, it doesn't really make sense, but that's ok, because it's not supposed to. Remember, Murph isn't exactly in a great state of mind here. Anyways, thanks for reading! :D

* * *

Thoughts raced through Murphy's mind so quick, he couldn't focus. The road was just a jumbled mess of lights and sounds, barely noticeable against the screaming thoughts in his head.

_I can't go back._

_Why'd she say anything?_

_I have to go back._

_What's Connor gonna do?_

_He thinks I'm a freak._

_What am I gonna do?_

_I have to go back_

_I can't go back._

_Have to go back._

_Can't_

_Go_

_BACK!_

The blaring horn -Murph wasn't even sure where it came from -made him jerk the wheel hard to the left, before slamming his foot down on the break. Almost in a dream like state, he felt himself collide with something. Felt the airbag hit him in the chest. Seen bricks falling around his car. But still his mind raced.

_I can't do this._

_What am I gonna do?_

_Connor knows._

_He knows how sick I am._

_He couldn't even look at me._

_He knows it's my fault._

_He knows I couldn't protect Katie._

_He knows I'm dirty._

_He hates me._

_He has to hate me._

_I can't do this anymore._

_I'm falling apart._

_Going nuts._

_Pull it together._

_I'm losing it._

_I already lost it._

_I've got nothing to lose._

_There's no saving me._

_I don't want to be saved._

_I deserve to die._

_I_

_Can't_

_Do_

_This._

"Stop, stop, stop!" He screamed, pounding on his head with his fists, before bashing it off the steering wheel. "Shut up!"

_Gone insane._

_Nutso_

_Looney Tunes_

_Dived off the deep end_

_Lost his marbles_

_Lost it._

_Lost what?_

_Everything._

"Son? Son, are you ok?"

Murph was dimly aware of someone pulling his hands away from his head, but he couldn't focus enough to even make himself care who it was.

"What's wrong?" The voice asked again.

With tears streaming down his face, he mumbled, "Everythin'."

_Pull it together._

_They'll lock you away._

_Pull it together._

_Can't._

_Can't think._

_It hurts._

_Everything hurts._

_What's going on?_

_Why does it hurt?_

_It hurts..._

"It's ok, boyo. There's an ambulance on the way. Just hold on. Do ya have any family? What's yer name?"

"M... Mu..." For a moment, the voices quieted. Finally he looked up at the old man who was still keeping his fists from his head. "I don't know," He whispered.

_Who am I?_


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Ok, so I know this chapter is... different. And probably not what you guys were expecting. But after this chapter, I'm going to be jumping into the future, pre- to post- movie, and flash back to the things happening from here. Sorry it took me so long to update, but I had it ready on Saturday and FF wouldn't let me post anything... It kept giving me an error message every time I tried to update one of my stories...

* * *

Connor was nearly out of his mind with worry for the second time in less than twenty four hours. It'd been an hour since Murph had run off, and Connor'd had no word from him. He didn't dare leave the apartment to go looking. Firstly, he wouldn't have known where to look if he did, and secondly, he didn't want to tear off, and have Murph come back to an empty apartment.

He was sitting in the chair, tapping his feet anxiously, working on his twelfth cigarette, when there was a heavy knock on the door. Jumping to his feet, Connor ran to the door, and threw it open. His mouth dropped when he seen the police officer.

"Uh... Can I 'elp ya, Officer?"

"Are you... Connor McManus, brother to one... Murphy McManus?"

"Aye. What's wrong?"

"There was an accident. Your brother ran his car off the road into a building. He's fine," The cop added quickly, seeing the panicked look in Connor's eyes, "But there's some question about his mental state. He says he doesn't know who he is, or what happened. We got his name and address off his lisence. We've got him at the hospital right now. The doctors can tell you more, if you'd like to come with me?"

"Of course," Connor said quickly, grabbing his jacket.

* * *

Connor ran up to the nurse's station. "Uh, hi, I'm Connor McManus. I'm 'ere for my brother Murph?"

"Of course. The doctor wants to see you before you see your brother. I'll page him, and he can show you where to go," The nurse said with a smile.

Connor impatiently nodded, twitching anxiously as he waited. A few minutes after the page went out, an older man wearing a lab coat introduced himself to Connor as Doctor Andrews.

" 'Ow's my brother?" Connor asked as they started walking. "Is everythin' okay? The cop said somethin' about amnesia or somethin'."

"Your brother hit the building very hard, which probably jolted things a bit. And a good Samaritan who helped him said he was punching himself in the head when he tried getting him out. Connor... Have you and your brother always lived together?"

"What? No. Jus' a few months now. Our ma died when we were kids, and we were separated. Why? Is that important?"

"Well, I just noticed that your brother had extensive scarring all over his body. I've seen a lot of things in my time, but... well, your brother nearly made me lose my lunch, looking the way he did. But I guess that's neither here nor there, just morbid curiousity on my part. Now, we're not sure if he'll recognize you; all he's said is to ask where he is, and who he is. We're hoping seeing you might bring something to the surface. Right in here."

Connor wanted to cry as he entered the room. His brother was curled up in a ball on the hospital bed, blue eyes completely vacant. But that wasn't the only reason he wanted to cry.

Since he and Murph had gotten an apartment, he'd never once seen his brother without - at the very least - a long sleeve shirt, jeans, and a pair of socks. Looking at him in his short hospital gown, Connor now understood why. Practically every inch of skin that Connor could see was scarred, including the bottom of his feet.

Choking back a sob, Connor knelt next to his brother. "Murph? Murph, can ya 'ear me?"

There was a few minutes of silence, when Connor thought that all hope was lost. But just as he hung his head to hide the tears streaming down his face, Murph shifted a little on the bed.

"Connor?"

"Muph! Shit, you dumb mother fucker! Ya scared the 'ell outta me!"

Murphy avoided looking at him, as he sat up slowly, and glanced over at the doctor. "Can I go 'ome now?"

"Well, we'd uh, like to keep you for observation, and the police are going to want to question you - "

"I ain't stayin'. The cops know where I fuckin' live, they can find me there if they need me." Though his words were harsh, Murphy's voice was monotone, as he stood, and pointed towards his clothes. "Grab those for me, will ya, Connor?"

"Murph, ya just 'ad a fuckin' car accident. Maybe ya should st - "

"I wanna go 'ome, Connor. 'And me my fuckin' clothes. Please."

"But Murph - "

"Please, Connor."

There was still no emotion in his brother's voice, and he still wouldn't look Connor in the eye. But Connor sighed, and grabbed Murphy his clothes.

"Boys, I have to strongly disagree with this decision - "

"I'll keep an eye on 'im, Doc. I'll call if anythin' 'appens. And the police know where we live. Jus' tell 'em we went back 'ome if they need us," Connor said tiredly, before glancing over at Murphy, who was just sitting there staring at him and the doctor. Finally, understanding dawned on Connor, and he stood, grabbing the doctor as he left the room.


	8. NOTICE

Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in a while, but firstly, the internet's been down, so I haven't been able to post anything (I'm doing this at my aunt's house lol), and secondly, my grandparents are down for the month, so postings will be sporadic at best until June 3rd or 4th. Sorry to make you wait, but I only get to see them once a year so… yeah, not that sorry lol. I'm half way done with chapters for ALL the stories, so expect at least one chapter for: Two Worlds, One Family; Let The Darkness Cover Me; Love Is A Labor; I Don't Wanna Die; and A Casualty Rerun. Sorry again for the delay, I hope you all understand.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Okay, so here's the first update after the family has left. I have more written, but I'm still working on the editing for most of them. Should be done by Sunday, maybe Monday at the latest. Thanks for your patience. : )

* * *

"So… would ya like ta explain ta me jus' what the bloody 'ell that fuckin' was?" Connor demanded finally.

The two brothers had been silent up until that point. Silence while Murph checked himself out of the hospital. Silent while Connor wheeled him outside. Silence while Connor carefully loaded his brother into the car. Silent for the first ten minutes of the half hour drive back to the apartment.

But Connor couldn't hold it in anymore. The dead-pan look in his twin's eyes as he gazed out the window, the thousand-mile stare that seemed to see nothing finally ate away at the little restraint he had.

Murph glanced at him slowly, before turning his attention back out the window. "What 'what' was 'bout?" He asked dully, drawing with his finger on the frost of the window.

"Oh Christ, Murph, don't fuckin' start, ya 'ear me? I ain't in the fuckin' mood for ya ta play fuckin' games, not today."

The small, sad laugh was almost enough to make Connor back down. The soft-spoken words that followed the laugh were enough to back him down.

"Ya ain't in the mood. What a fuckin' joke, Connor. Ya jus' blow outta fuckin' nowhere, askin' me shit I don't like to think 'bout, much less fuckin' talk 'bout, and expect it ta all be okay. The great and mighty Connor ain't in the mood. Well, maybe ya shouldda thought 'o that before ya fuckin' asked 'bout shit ya don't really don't even want ta fuckin' know."

"Murph… I'm jus' tryin' ta 'elp. I wanna understand. I wanna 'elp ya. You're my fuckin' brother, what the 'ell am I supposed ta do? Jus' ignore it, and fuckin' watch ya die a little more every day?" Connor asked desperately.

" 'Twas the general idea."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Murph! Do ya really think I can jus' sit 'ere an' watch that? Did ya ever think 'ow much it kills me ta see ya like this? I'm tryin' ta fuckin' 'elp ya!"

Murph turned his stare back towards Connor, but this time it was cold. "Ya want ta fuckin' 'elp, do ya, Connor? Do ya even fuckin' wanna know? Shit, could ya even 'andle knowin'?"

"Of course I want ta fuckin' know! Jesus, Murph, you're me twin! I want ta fuckin' 'elp ya, I always 'ave!" Connor said desperately. " 'Ow the fuck can ya think I wouldn't want ta 'elp?"

"Oh really? Ya want ta fuckin' know how Donny used ta take a fuckin' knife, and carve out chunks o' my fuckin' skin? Ya want ta know how he nearly fuckin' killed me from beatin' me with a damn belt? Ya want ta fuckin' know how he almos' caved my fuckin' skull in with a fuckin' boat oar? Or 'ow he held me fuckin' arm over the cook stove 'til it was medium fuckin' rare. Or maybe ya want ta 'ear 'bout 'ow he used ta nail me to the fuckin' floor ta keep me from runnin'. 'Ow he used to chain me ta the fuckin' ceilin', rippin' me fuckin' arms outta socket.

"Or maybe ya want ta 'ear 'bout 'ow he used ta fuckin' rape me, huh? 'Ow he fucked me with a broken bottle? 'Ow he fuckin' ripped me apart when he fist-fucked me? Or maybe ya want ta 'ear 'ow he made me an' Katie fuck each other 'til we were fuckin' raw and bleedin'. Then he'd fuck us some more.

"Ya want ta 'ear 'bout 'ow much worse it was if I fuckin' cried. Or screamed. 'Ow he used ta make us beg for 'im ta fuck us. Ya want ta fuckin' 'ear 'bout 'ow it felt ta know I couldn't keep me self safe, much less Katie? 'Ow fuckin' worthless I felt? 'Opeless? 'Elpless? 'Ow I thought it would never fuckin' end? 'Ow I used ta fuckin' beg God to let me die? 'Ow I used to beg Katie ta fuckin' let Donny kill me? Fuck, maybe ya want ta hear how I begged Donny to do whatever the fuck he wanted, if he'd jus' fuckin' kill me and end it all.

" 'Cause ya see, Connor, I don't fuckin' think ya really want ta fuckin' know. Much less that ya can fuckin' 'andle knowin'. So why don't ya jus' shut the fuck up, and drive us the fuck 'ome?"


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Ok, so here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy, usual disturbing warning things apply and all that. You've been warned.

* * *

"I want ta see."

Murph looked up at Connor in surprise, unsure if he'd heard right. "Ya what?"

The two hadn't spoken since the exchange in the car. Upon entering the apartment, Connor had grabbed the bottle of Jack, and headed straight for the roof. Murph had laid down on his bed, watching the time tick by as he smoked one cigarette after another, wondering what was going through Connor's head as two hours went by. Then three. And finally four. Then suddenly, there he was, standing just inside the door.

He'd expected a lot of things when Connor came back. Expected yelling, arguing, fighting, pleading... Ending up back on the streets, digging through garbage cans, and turning tricks. Expected Connor to be disgusted, angry, the whole list of emotions.

But that was the one thing he hadn't expected. The one thing that hadn't come to mind.

"I want ta see. Your scars. What he did to ya. I want ta see."

Murph studied Connor carefully for a few minutes. He was drunk, that much was obvious, and not just because of the empty bottle in his twin's hand. He was swaying a bit, and his words were slurred. But his eyes were bright. Focused.

"Why?" Murph finally asked.

"I 'ave ta know."

Murph stood slowly, eyes glued to Connor's face as he carefully pulled off his tee shirt, followed by his long sleeve under shirt. He waited, heart thumping like mad, for Connor's reaction.

Hesitantly, Connor stepped closer, the bottle falling out of his hands, and rolling across the floor, forgotten as Connor's thin fingers touched his disfigured torso, lingering unsurely on the spot where Murph's left nipple had once been, before moving on.

"What... what caused 'em?"

Murph released a breathe he hadn't realized he was holding. "Which ones?" He asked quietly. "There's a lot to fuckin' chose from."

How long had it been since he'd actually looked at himself in a mirrior? How long since he'd really looked at the grotesque, misshappen thing that was his body? Looked at his skin, that was no longer pink in most areas, but an angry red, dead black, or cold white from the scars? Seen his mutilated extremities, that barely looked human anymore, looked like something out of a science fiction horror novel?

"What... 'ow'd that 'appen?" Connor asked hoarsely, his fingers moving back up to Murph's absent nipple, before pulling his hand back.

Murph couldn't look at him, couldn't look at himself, so he focused his gaze on the table across the room. "Donny bit it off one night. Got upset 'cause I bit his fuckin' lip, and left a nasty bruise. Said if I wanted ta fuckin' bite, he'd show me what bitin' really was. That was the worst of it. At least, it was that particular fuckin' night."

Wordlessly, Connor gently pushed Murph towards the bed. Murph obliged, laying down with his arms at his sides, shuddering at the uncomfortableness,_ the fear_, that the position made him feel. Memories of cruel hands threatened to send him spiraling into the comforting blackness, but Connor's voice pulled him back.

"There's so fuckin' many," Connor whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed, his gaze still locked on his twin's chest. "What about this one?"

"Hit me with a shovel, and sliced me open with the edge," Murph managed to say, grasping at his brother's voice, struggling to keep it together.

"An' these?"

"Hot fire poker. After he finished with me chest, he reheated it, then fucked me with it."

Murph closed his eyes as Connor yanked his hand back sharply.

_This was it. This was when his twin was going explode and-_

Murph actually jumped, a sob escaping his throat as Connor touched him again. But it was gentle, as his brother slowly turned him over onto his stomach.

Instantly, Murph began to hyperventilate, hands gouging into the mattress as his whole body tensed, tears streaming down his face, soaking the pillow underneath him.

"Oh Sweet Mary, mother of God," Connor croaked. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph."

Murph barely heard his brother's curses, as he slipped further into himself, trying to block out The Voice that haunted him constantly.

_Who else is gonna want **you**, you little Irish fuck? You think anyone's ever gonna be able to look at you without running away screaming? You think any **woman's** ever gonna want you? Be able to look at you without **puking**? Hell, you couldn't even pay a **whore** on the street to sleep with you. You look like some sort of freak, like a mutilated version of the Elephant Man._

_Every time someone sees you, they're gonna wonder what you did to __**deserve**__ this. How horrible you __**must **__have been. _

_And every time you look at yourself, you're gonna remember me. Remember what __**I **__did._

* * *

Connor choked back the bile rising in his throat, swallowing it back down, knowing if he opened his mouth, he'd scream. And if he started, he wouldn't stop.

Murph's entire back was covered in scars. Flat red scars, raised white scars, small cigarette burns. Scars that looked like they were still healing, like the damage had been so severe the body couldn't heal itself.

Connor was torn away from the horror by a shuddering sob. He widened his gaze, and felt his heart shatter at the sight of his brother. Murph was tense as a bow string, feet dug into the mattress, hands white in their grip on the iron headbar of the bed, his eyes squeezed shut, tears cascading, as his mouth moved wordlessly.

Connor yanked him off the bed, pulling him into a tight embrace, that Murph struggled against for only a moment, before melting into his brother's arms, his cries and sobs filling the small loft apartment.


	11. Chapter 11

Ok, guys, sorry for this but…

I'm going to end this story here. I might do a one shot later, attached to this, but for now, this is going to be the ending. Yes, I know I'm horrible for updating with this stupid note, and giving you hope that I was continuing, but I haven't been able to write on this one for ages (obviously), and rather than keep it hanging, I'll end it, and work on it again at another time. Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed, or added me to your respective lists, I really appreciate it. You guys are the best.


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